gelist shrieked, "Someone here; your heart is about to beat out of your chest. You need to get up and come down here to the altar and give your beating heart to Christ." I can remember his words like a mantra, even after twenty-three years. Word for word. True story.

And it freaked me out. I was new to all of this church stuff. I went to church as a small child, but I can't tell you anything about it. I can't remember much before I was ten. But I can remember what that man said to me at the age of eighteen.

I could relate to him somewhere deep inside my soul, underneath the three planks of the chamber. My heart beat. It pounded. Louder and louder. So I jumped up, went down to the altar, and shrieked, "I am the one with the beating heart. Me, this heart. It beats. I did it."

Of course, we are all guilty. We killed the most precious thing. The One thing. The One heart that took its last beat here, only to come back and beat inside everyone who listens. Louder and louder. And with each beat a new beginning for some poor soul whose heart has taken its last beat here, only to utter his first eternal hello there.

● ● ●

My wife told me Bonnie buried the bone a couple of weeks ago. Put it back in the ground behind her house. I figured that was the end of it. Then Lee called this week and said, "Go to your backdoor, Bonnie has something for you."

So I did as told. I went to the backdoor and Bonnie was walking across the driveway we share. She had a basket with something inside. I could see right off that supper was mine. I even grinned. I just happened to be starving at the moment.

And she held out this basket with a good ole' southern smile and said, "We had some extra barbeque ribs. It's Lee's secret recipe."

"You've got to be kidding me! This will be a feast. Thank you."

She smiled and turned to cross the driveway. And man, were they good! Succulent. I'd eat them every night of the week and die of hardened arteries. I wouldn't care. I was so excited about receiving them that I even thought about becoming a Bo Bice fan.

Then I got to thinking about that bone she found in her backyard, the bone I was telling you about a couple of weeks ago. Well, I got to thinking maybe they'd cooked up some secret recipe all right. Secret meat that used to be on that bone she found. You know it happened in that movie, Fried Green Tomatoes. They killed that man, chopped him up, made barbeque out of him, and fed him to that Georgia detective, who told Big George that it was the best barbecue he'd ever eaten, and asked him what his secret was. And Big George smiled and said, "Thank you, suh, I'd have to say the secret's in the sauce."

And I was thinking, I hope they aren't feeding me a dead person.

The neighbors even found a grave marker in the backyard to go along with the bone. No lie. First came the bone, and then this grave marker appeared. This is where they said the bone must've come from. Said it may have been a soldier in the Civil War. They had my attention. It was some kind of white stone with a rough texture. It had three initials on it-W.C.P. I know because she had it leaning against the back of her house and called me over to look at it. Sure enough, it was a grave marker. And sure enough, it could be a Confederate soldier. General Hood, the Confederate general and full-time sot, took his men across the Tennessee River near Decatur on his way to get all those boys killed in the Battle of Franklin. So it could be a Civil War man. Or it could be they are setting me up. Making me think it was a Civil War man.

They could've bought that grave marker at a yard sale. She's big into yard sales anyway. She bought a butcher's block at a yard sale today. I saw her tugging on it, trying to get it out of the back of her truck. I just happened to be walking out the backdoor. I swear I don't spy. I ain't a nosy neighbor, but like I said, she was trying to lift it out of the truck, and when I asked her if she needed help she said, "Naw, I got it." Then she said, "It's a butcher's block. I bought it at a yard sale for $3.00."

I was thinking, That's an awful big butcher's block. She had both hands gripping it and she was straining a bit to carry it in the backdoor. I was also thinking, What's she going to cut up? A whole cow? Then I remembered the bone and grave marker. It was all coming together. She's Jeffery Dahmer's sister or something. I pictured her in her kitchen with a detached arm on that butcher's block. Freezer bags to the left of her and a knife in one hand, while the other hand on that arm'

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